


in the instant when love begins

by Matriaya



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Finally getting together, Friends to Lovers, M/M, a bit of rumple, soft pants alert, the kissing part
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:28:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26001931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Matriaya/pseuds/Matriaya
Summary: This is not the first time Eddie has seen Buck without a shirt on. Not even remotely. Nor is it the first time he’s come over see to Buck’s face looking all sleep rumpled and soft. But it's the first time he’s seen the two in tandem, and it absolutely wrecks him.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 461





	in the instant when love begins

The last dark wisps of 2 o’clock in the morning swish passed Eddie’s car as he pulls into Buck’s familiar street and cuts his engine. 

This is a ridiculous idea. Really, truly, one of the worst ideas he’s had in a long time, but Christopher isn't home, so he's alone with the fourteen piece brass band of his thoughts, drumming endlessly against his skull, and he can’t take it anymore. This went beyond not sleeping. Beyond the constant distraction. It was beginning to affect him at work, this ridiculous crush he seemed to develop on Buck. 

He almost wishes he was a coward so he can run away, not face this head on, because he knows what the outcome will be, and it will fucking kill him, when Buck finally tells him _I’m flattered but no thanks._

Because Buck is straight.

Or at least has given no actual indication that he is into dudes, and Eddie definitely looked. 

So this is a suicide mission, basically, but Eddie reached his boiling point days ago, and is about to crawl out of his skin if he has to spend another minute with himself alone. He just wants it done with. Gone. Whatever the outcome, he wants it over. He wants to stop feeling like Buck somehow brings the sunlight into his world, like maybe if he can just wait a few more days/weeks/months/years, Buck will open up those stunning blue eyes and finally _see_ him. He wants to stop _wanting._

He has the key Buck had given him ages ago, lets himself into the entryway but pauses at the front door. Knocks. Remembers that it’s 2 am and Buck’s bed is all the way up a flight of stairs, and then bangs on the door. He would start waking up neighbors in a minute, but can’t actually find the fucks in him to care. A light flickers on beneath the door, and Eddie has to curb down the intense desire to flee. No. He needs to see this out.

Buck opens the door, and Eddie quietly loses all the oxygen in his body because Buck is standing there in a pair of blue flannel pj bottoms and nothing else.

This is not the first time Eddie has seen Buck without a shirt on. Not even remotely. Nor is it the first time he’s come over to see Buck’s face looking all sleep rumpled and soft. But it's the first time he’s seen the two in tandem, and it absolutely wrecks him.

Shit. He should leave. But then Buck runs a hand through his hair, and croaks out “Eddie?” in a low, husky voice, and Eddie pushes past him. 

He's in it now. Down this devil’s ride until the very end. 

“Is Christopher okay?” is the next thing Buck asks, and Eddie blinks at him for several seconds, and tries not to feel like an asshole because _of course_ Buck’s first worry would be for Chris. It's part of what got Eddie in this whole goddamn mess in the first place. Fuuuck. 

He wishes he wanted to punch Buck, because that would be so much easier than all of this unfortunate love he has spilling out from every pore. 

“He’s fine. He’s at Abuela’s.”

Buck’s only-semi-conscious brain absorbs that information as he shuts the door.

“Are _you_ okay?” he says. “It’s like two in the morning, man, what’s going on?” 

Eddie feels himself balancing on the edge, right on the edge of that cliff, and he knows at the bottom wait only razor sharp rocks and pitying words, but there is nowhere else to go now, not if he wants to keep what little sanity he has left intact.

So he jumps. 

“I can’t-” he starts, and the words build and build against his teeth, a torrent, and he can’t sift through them to make sense of them, but they want to come out now, faster. “I don’t know how…”

_How do I tell you I love you?_

_How do I tell you that I’ll love you until I no longer exist, and then my discombobulated atoms will keep loving you?_

Buck looks at him, worried now, his eyebrows all scrunched together in a way that makes Eddie feel soft inside. 

“Eddie,” Buck puts a hand on his shoulder, and gives him the most beautiful concerned look that makes Eddie want to cry because god damnit, even at this moment, when Eddie’s about to take a sledgehammer to their friendship, Buck is concerned. Because he has the biggest goddamn heart of anyone (besides Christopher) that Eddie has ever met. “It’s gonna be okay, man. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”

_Together._

He didn't say that, but it was implied. Because that’s what they always did. 

That bottom of the ravine is in sight now, hard, and ugly, and rushing up way too fast. 

_I’m going to miss us so fucking bad_ is what he wants to say, but those words, like the others, just won’t form themselves, so instead, Eddie reaches out a hand, cups the back of Buck’s neck, and hauls him down.

And _fuck_ , it’s so good. He knew it would be. Knew Buck would taste like heaven, and sin, and okay, a little bit of morning breath because it's two am, but Eddie doesn’t care in the slightest, just licks at Buck’s lower lip. 

His other hand he places over Buck’s tattoo. Over that soft, inked patch of skin that he’s memorized with his eyes but never got to touch with his fingers until now. He already knows its shape, its breadth as he strokes a thumb over it slowly. Fuck, his skin is soft. It’s a little ridiculous.

Eddie gives himself a moment, and then two, letting himself sink into Buck’s mouth, the way the short hairs on the back of Buck’s neck prickle against his finger tips, and then lets him go. Steps back. Prepares to get punched. 

Now Buck looks even more rumpled, and beautiful, and that is kind of a bad move on Eddie’s part because it just makes him want to kiss Buck again, so he takes another step back. Decidedly _doesn’t_ hide behind his fingers, or curl up into a ball like an armadillo, or run from the room, even though those are all excellent options, and much preferable to standing here, blinking at Buck through the silence that hangs heavy between them. 

“What!?” Buck shouts, and Eddie can’t help but flinch. At least it wasn’t a punch. Time to face the aftermath. He will take the feeling of Buck’s mouth to the ends of his life, and it will be enough.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” Buck’s practically windmilling his arms, but Eddie won’t let himself drop his gaze. 

Still no punching though. 

“You are such an idiot,” he growls out, and moves into Eddie’s space, and Eddie deserves it, is ready to be laid out, that final crash at the bottom of the cliff.

And then Buck’s grabbing him with both hands curled into his hair, moving up against him, all that warm naked heat radiating off his chest, and brings their mouths to within inches of each other. 

Eddie feels like fainting, like the floor’s dropped out from under him, like maybe he’s died and this is heaven, pressed up against Buck, drowning in the ice of his eyes.

“I’ve waited for you to do that for three years,” Buck murmurs around a smile, and Eddie has just enough time to register the words, to smile back, grin back like the biggest dork in the world, before Buck is kissing him. Eddie wants to laugh, wants to fucking sing with the happiness that’s bubbling over in his chest, so instead he pours it all into the kiss, hard to form around the smile he can’t keep off his face. He snakes his arms around Buck’s waist, letting his fingers finally, _finally_ explore the expanse of skin, running them up Buck’s spine until he can grip on the notches of his shoulder blades. 

Buck groans at the light contact, and pulls away just long enough to whisper “I love you so fucking much, Eddie, you have no idea.” 

And maybe Eddie wasn’t planning on progressing right to the “I love you” portion of the evening until much later, but those are the words that finally form themselves, finally become coherent on his tongue, and he whispers it over and over against Buck’s mouth, against the soft skin of his neck, against the fingertips that trace his lips in wonder. 

Buck trips as they ascend the stairs, and Eddie laughs so hard he is nearly doubled over by the time they reach the top, but then Buck loses those pants that had made him go so dry in the mouth earlier, and Eddie stops laughing, and gets to work memorizing every inch of Buck’s body with his mouth instead.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> First Buddie fic I posted on here, hope you enjoyed! I'll always be rooting for these boys.  
> The title is taken from the Mary Oliver poem "Don't Hesitate".


End file.
